The Princess Guard
by Stern Gamboge
Summary: Set in Wutai 700 years before the events of FFVII, the current princess Yukimi has to struggle against her own weaknesses as well as try to prevent a civil war and the inevitable threat of Jenova's evil
1. At the feet of Da'Chao

The breeze got colder and stronger as Yukimi ascended the mountain in the night, making her silver-cloth cloak flow like water behind her. The path had become thin and then steep as she approached the rock face, where she then had to climb instead of walk. The coolness of the air should have made her tighten her cloak around her shoulders, but she enjoyed the freshness of the breeze, feeling the icy wind slither up her lithe, pale legs. Her light frame was decked with a tight-fitting but flexible tunic of white linen that just covered her shoulders but left her arms exposed, and only covered the top half of her thighs so that she could move her legs around freely. She wore grey plimsolls on her small feet, which had waxed soles to give them a greater grip on the walls; on her hands, she had fingerless gloves of darkest blue, and around her neck hung a small pendant of sapphire on a silver chain. She had long, straight hair which was silky and fine and seemed like silver in the chill moonlight, flowing like her cloak behind her.

_Grant me wisdom, grant me strength_, she prayed, closing her eyes as she climbed by touch alone. The cold, pale light of the moon was deceiving and if she used its light to find her way up she could mistakenly grip a loose rock and fall to her death. Instead, her soft fingers stroked along each crevice, each jutting rock, testing its weight before lifting herself up with speed and grace, moving up the cliff like a mysterious mist. Shortly, her hand found the top of the cliff and she risked opening her eyes as she peered over the lip of the cliff: Da'Chao stood before her. The moon behind her, she paused for a moment to take in the elegant sculpturing of the great statue, admiring for the hundredth time its sheer size and its frozen majesty. Up here, the winds were high and only the determined could touch the feet of Da'Chao. _Thank you_, she told him in silent prayer, flicking her silver hair aside to see her god better.

Eventually she clambered up to the flat ground and walked slowly towards the stone body of the god, who watched over all Wutai in times of need or plenty. Kneeling, she bent down and closed her eyes, kissing the foot of Da'Chao and then clasping her hands together in meditation.

Her thoughts swirled all about her. Her mind was thick with stress, confusing her, clouding her wisdom and blinding her from enlightenment. Yet there was also hope, optimism, creativity…_yes_, she thought, _I am still whole_. Reaching with her willpower for the glimmer of glory in her heart, Yukimi took her breath slowly and released it with care, preserving the moment, grasping in her mind the shard of hope. The stress in her mind was weak, and did not touch her soul, and almost immediately she felt her spirit being lifted. There was something deeper in her heart, something darker and more beautiful even than hope; that was sorrow, and she had no desire to touch it, for it was the very core of her soul. _It must be kept whole_, Yukimi told herself. _It must be strong for when I return to the planet_. As the tension at the fore of her mind dissipated and her mood brightened, she opened her eyes slowly, almost daring to smile.

She felt cold from the demanding wind at her back, and her muscles and fingers ached from the long climb up to Da'Chao. But she felt at peace, and for a long time remained knelt before her god in perfect silence. There was a footstep behind her.

Yukimi shot to her feet and turned sharply, tensing suddenly as she looked at the newcomer. It was a young woman, who could not have been much older than her own seventeen years, dressed in a long, flowing dress of light blue silk and with her soft white hair resting on her shoulders, for the breeze had died down. She was petite, with thin shoulders and a slim waist, but her body had a figure of exquisitely sculpted feminine curves that, like her curious white hair, gave her a look of maturity about her. _Who are you?_ Yukimi thought. She stood warily, but curtseyed politely all the same.

'I am Yukimi, Princess of Wutai,' she said firmly. The girl nodded and smiled shyly, and the low light of the moon made her eyes twinkle. Yukimi could not see into them in the darkness.

'I am Sora,' the newcomer replied. The breeze lifted for a moment, lightly shifting her snow-coloured hair before going silent once again. She bowed low. 'Forgive me, my Princess,' Sora said, and Yukimi noted that her voice was wispy and quiet, like a breath of cool, refreshing air. 'I had thought to pray here alone.' Suddenly Yukimi felt slightly ashamed, and was thankful for the darkness for otherwise this subject would have seen her blush. _My status…ruins everything_, she thought privately. _All the friendships I could have, all the beautiful, colourful characters I should be able to know and love. A princess must be aloof_.

_But all the same…_

'No, Sora,' Yukimi said to her gently, relaxing her posture. 'Under the gaze of Da'Chao…we are all mortals.' Clumsily, she smiled to soften her words, and the look of vague disappointment on Sora's face evaporated. Sora bowed again, biting her lip as if trying to weigh up her words with utmost care.

'You are kind and wise, my Princess,' she said with a smile, serene and mysterious. With what most of the royal court would consider scandalous cheek, Sora turned away and knelt before the foot of Da'Chao, saying no more as she began to meditate silently. _Brave_, Yukimi thought with a pang of admiration. _I wonder who this woman is, who is not cowed by the arrogance of the royal family_. But Yukimi slowly stepped away to allow the peculiar girl her peace. She swung herself over the edge of the cliff and began to climb down, and as she paused to catch her breath she thought that she could hear a quiet sob, carried on the wind.

Emperor Katashi and his empress, Chiyo, had ruled Wutai with leadership wise and fair for nearly twenty seven years. They were loved by all, and Wutai had prospered in those glorious years of their reign. Two children were theirs; a son, Taro, who was now twenty one, and a daughter, Yukimi, who was seventeen, and now Emperor Katashi decided it was time for his children to do their first duty to their country: to defend its people.

For perhaps seven years now, the land had been upset by the Raiders – an unknown race of people whose numbers were few but whose bloodthirstiness and selfishness were vicious and infamous. They had been confined to small pockets of unrest in the far south of the continent, but now Wutai's greatest general, the heroic Yuudai, was forced to retreat to the great South Fortress. Katashi held the letter in his hand as he read it to his children, stroking his forked grey beard as he did so and pacing restlessly in front of his throne.

'"…as such, I implore your Majesty to send more troops. Without the protection of our armies, the Harvest will fail and Wutai's granaries will not last the whole winter. I remain your loyal subject, General Yuudai."' The Emperor folded the letter carefully and gently held it in his right hand as he turned to face Taro and Yukimi. 'It is time my children learned the art of war,' Katashi said firmly, his voice still strong for his age. 'Taro, you will lead the Dragon Guard; five hundred men, all picked as the finest warriors of our nation. Your second in command is Nobu, who is a great friend of General Yuudai. You must let him advise you, my son, and you must heed his counsel. I have great faith in him.' Taro, stifling an excited grin at being given such a prestigious command, bowed low and stepped back.

Katashi turned now to Yukimi, who stood with proud posture but nervously wrung her hands behind her back. 'Beautiful daughter,' he said, his voice a little gentler, 'there are many perils in this world, and should your brother return to the planet without an heir you will inherit the empire. A woman can govern a country as well as any man, but it takes a warrior to defend it from enemies. You will also travel south to serve under Yuudai, for there are valuable lessons of leadership and courage which I think you have yet to learn.' Yukimi thought for a moment that she could see a hint of sadness in his eyes, but he blinked almost as suddenly as she spotted him, and continued: 'I leave command of the Blue Regiment to you, my daughter; two hundred men, all well versed in the song of war. Your second-in-command is a man named Isamu. Do not fear him, for whatever his appearances he is of a kind heart and strong spirit. He knows how to lead soldiers, so observe all that you see, and pray that his wisdom will clothe your own dear spirit.' _Isamu once murdered a man, father_, she desperately wanted to say, but bit her lip and, like her brother, bowed and stepped away from the throne's steps.

'Father,' Taro began, but Katashi raised a hand quickly.

'Say nothing. Act. I do not want your thanks, this is your _duty_. And as for your concerns…' he paused, sighing. 'You should address those alone, if you are to learn the discipline of courage. Go with the blessing of Da'Chao, my children, and with the blessing of your father.'

Yukimi sat atop the Glade of Secrets in the royal gardens. The royal gardens were, for the most part, carefully manicured and offered an attractive place to look at – Taro's betrothed, Hitomi, often walked their neatly trimmed paths of grass. But out on the edge, there was a hill which the gardeners were never ordered to touch, for it was said that in the days of the Cetra two lovers fought against an evil invader from the north atop that hill, defending the land from destruction. Though they won in the end, the two lovers, whose names and deeds were lost to time, were both mortally wounded and returned to the planet in the Glade of Secrets, where the magic of the Lifestream was rumoured to still linger, becoming a sacred, untouchable part of the Emperors' land.

_I would be those people_, thought Yukimi. _I would, save for there is no evil from the north assailing my land, and I have no lover in this perfect garden to share an end with_. She sat cross-legged, balancing her katana on one finger and flicking it up into the air before catching the flat of the blade once again on her finger, still perfectly balanced. She flicked back her head in a quick movement, tossing aside her flowing silver hair. _A cold colour for young hair_, she thought. _Taro's hair is rich and thick and brown, and though it feels coarser there seems to be more life in it. More fun._

'If you twirl that any harder you'll go curly,' Taro's mocking voice said from behind her. She realised that she had been twisting her hair between her fingers without noticing and stopped instantly, looking over her shoulder and smiling. Taro was dressed in the red and gold armour of the Dragon Guard, and had his long katana sheathed at his side in a bronze scabbard.

'You look like you've worn armour for years,' she said, turning around to face him. He sat on the grass in front of her and grinned.

'And you look like armour doesn't very much suit you.'

'I'm not wearing any armour.' Yukimi was wearing a dark blue silk dress and had snowdrop petals woven into a wreath on her crown.

'Indeed, and there's not a hope in the world that I can conjure up an image of you dressed for battle without breaking into fitful laughter.' She wrinkled her nose.

'I'm more dangerous than I look,' she warned, though she knew he could see the ironic smile at the corner of her mouth.

'I believe it, sister, for you're the canniest sneak I know. But I don't fancy your chances against those grizzly Raiders, standing a foot taller than you and holding the heaviest, most monstrous swords in the world, and about to swing it down and cut you in two.'

'Charming.' Yukimi stuck her tongue out at him. 'Anyway, the Blue Regiment armour is much lighter. They're all about speed, so we can leave the bludgeoning to filthy brutes like you.'

'Equally charming,' Taro muttered with a smirk. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, and then Yukimi stood up, offering her small hand to help him up. Taking it, he chuckled sardonically as she struggled to take his weight, lifting him to his feet with a great effort that made the muscles in her thin arms ache afterwards. 'Thank you, dear sister.' He grinned once more, then walked away. Yukimi waited awhile, still frustrated by her unfulfilled yearning to touch the spirits of the Cetra in the Glade of Secrets, but eventually tore herself away from their unreachable magic and left to find her armour, and her Blue Regiment.

It was not until the next day that she was introduced to her second-in-command, Isamu. The two companies had assembled just outside the city of Wutai and the road southward was lined with men, women and children who had gathered to watch the small army leave. _There are thousands of them_, Yukimi thought in mild shock at suddenly being the centre of attention. She was dressed in the light leather armour of the Blue Regiment and was standing alongside Isamu, who towered at least a foot over her small frame. He was big, but his movements were by no means clumsy; there was a deftness to his hands and a calmness in his walk which made Yukimi both fear him and be glad for his company – for his infectious good humour was very similar to Taro's.

'Ever killed a man, my Princess?' he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the buzz of the crowd. Yukimi shook her head. _God, no_. _That isn't my place_.

'No, captain. Never.' Isamu nodded, drawing his katana from his hip. He held it up so that the sunlight glinted off the blade, then with practiced deftness swung it in a lightning-quick arc downwards, spinning its handle around the back of his hand once before catching it and looking at her with his honest brown eyes.

'Killing a foe in battle is very different to committing murder,' he said gruffly. _You'd know_, she thought uncomfortably, but nodded politely. 'In battle both sides are consenting combatants, whatever cause has forced them to the fight. There is a fierce energy one possesses in battle – or maybe it possesses you – and you kill like animal, not caring who it is that feeds your blade. It is only _afterwards_, and I mean hours later, that you are seized by fear. Fear of your own mind, perhaps, or how close you may have come to death in the fight.' He paused, sheathing his katana and looking around at the crowds for a moment before continuing in a low voice. 'Now, killing a man in cold blood…then, you suffer not just fear, but also guilt.' He turned to face her and his mighty gaze was terrifying in its honesty, and Yukimi dared not even blink as he spoke. 'Guilt before the crime; are you doing the right thing? Guilt as your victim stops breathing and returns to the planet. And then guilt through all the dreadful years afterwards, even if the act was justified.' He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. 'It takes immense bravery to murder. More than any mortal can handle.' He looked at her once again. 'Fight your enemies for as long as they exist, my Princess,' he said firmly now, 'but never murder.' He remained staring at her and Yukimi grew increasingly uncomfortable for it. She gulped quietly, trying to think of something to fill the silence.

'You think there is courage in murder?' she asked at last. Isamu smiled, his gaze at last softening as he looked away. Then he nodded.

'Aye, I do. At least for anyone with a conscience. I obey my conscience, my Princess.'

Just as Yukimi began to doubt her original thoughts that Isamu was a cold-blooded killer, the Horn of Wutai blew. Katashi was standing atop the Seat of the Watch, a tall grey stone which sat beside the road and offered a view of the road as it stretched southward through the wide plain towards the mountains. Taro walked at the front of the column with his officers, and the Dragon Guard marched behind him. As soon as they had begun to move, Yukimi drew her katana from her side and held it in the air, beginning the march of the Blue Regiment. She faced forwards and ignored the crowd, feeling uncomfortable by their cheering.

_Stop treating me like a hero, I haven't done anything_, she felt like screaming. She kept her eyes to the front. _There are so many of them…I never asked for this. I would give so much just to be one of their number._ All the same, she held her head high and tried not to squint as a headache began to trouble her. She saw that Taro was waving to the crowds and had moved to the side to talk with some of them, laughing and joking, and looking as if he had never had such a good time in his life. _How I envy you, brother_._ Had I ambition, I might be more like you_.

The cheering and applauding of the mob died down as they began to leave the city of Wutai behind them, and Yukimi kept quiet all that time. She said not a word for hours, throughout the entire march, until they made camp just before the Red Bridge – the great rope bridge which went over the Red Canyon, so-called for the amount of blood spilt down there in a battle long ago. When her tent was made, she was tempted to go straight to bed and try to reconcile her stressed mind with meditation or sleep. But just as she began head towards it she stopped suddenly as two of her soldiers walked in front of her, carrying a throwboard and a set of dice.

'My Princess,' the two of them murmured, bowing. _Stop it! I'm not above you!_

'Good evening,' she said, offering a shy smile. The two young men looked at each other for a moment, then the one on the right, who had long black hair and a closely trimmed beard, showed her the throwboard. He grinned rather sheepishly.

'Care to cast dice with us, my Princess?' he asked, and the subtle biting of his lip made it clear that he knew she was going to turn it down. _He's showing his cheek as a dare_, she realised. _Two can play that game_.

'If you would teach me, soldier, I would be delighted.' She offered a smile which looked confident, though she struggled not to laugh at the hesitation in the man's expression. The other soldier, who was tall and had an experienced, mature look about him, chuckled to himself, looking down at his feet.

'Forgive my brother, my Princess,' he said. 'His name, since he forgot to tell you, is Osamu; and mine is Tsubasa.' Yukimi nodded and could not resist smiling this time. _I don't think I'll need to introduce myself_, she thought wryly.

'Many thanks to you then, Osamu, for inviting me to your game.' This time she laughed aloud as his face turned to utter bemusement.

'This way, my Princess,' said Tsubasa. Yukimi was quite content to follow as she was led to a small gap between two tents where a bonfire burned and four other men sat. They greeted Osamu and Tsubasa cheerfully, but stood up and bowed hastily when they saw Yukimi, who sighed inwardly. 'Our Princess has asked us to teach her the game of dice,' Tsubasa said, and though there was a silent glance shared between the others they nodded and sat back down. Osamu took off his cloak and folded it twice, placing it on the dusty floor and gesturing grandly to it.

'A seat for my Princess,' he said with what Yukimi began to recognise as characteristic cockiness. Nodding in clumsy thanks, she sat cross-legged on the cushion of his thick cloak of wolf fur, and Tsubasa laid out the throwboard. Osamu sat beside Yukimi and when she looked up she blushed when he winked at her. _I ought to be aloof…_

'The throwboard, my Princess,' Tsubasa began with a light gesture at the board, 'has a simple layout – seven concentric circles, with the innermost scoring seven points and the outermost scoring only one point. Quite simply, you cast three dice from the pot onto the board, and then multiply the number on the dice depending on where it lands – so if I cast a die onto the central circle and it yields five points, that's-'

'Five times seven,' Yukimi said. 'Thirty-five.' Tsubasa smiled.

'Excellent, my Princess,' he said with a respectful nod. 'And you do the same count for all three dice. The highest score wins the round.'

'Is it gambling, then?' she asked.

'Oh yes, my Princess,' said Osamu with a wry smirk threatening to dominate his face. 'Though we have little money to pass around at the moment, so we often gamble our wine ration or a whetstone…sometimes a woman, too,' he added coyly, causing one of the men to snigger. 'But there are no camp followers, so…'

'Yes, I understand,' Yukimi said, coughing lightly and looking away from him. Osamu grinned, then clapped his hands once and grabbed the dice pot.

Long into the night Yukimi gambled on the throwboard with her men and, though her successes were few early on in the game, several hours later she was winning several small victories. A skin of wine was passed around the group several times, and though Yukimi tried to turn it down at first she quickly realised how much fun she was having by fitting in with ordinary people. It was pleasant, and though they still called her "my Princess" it was said in a far friendlier, more casual way. The fire died down over that time and the sun had long since departed for the night, and as Yukimi drained more wine each time it was passed to her, nobody seemed to notice in the near-darkness that Osamu, a common soldier, had managed to surreptitiously place one hand on Yukimi's buttocks. And in her mild stupor she did not think to object, either, and so the gambling continued until the last embers of the fire were extinguished when one of the men, Daisuke, spilt wine on it.

Osamu stood up. 'Idiot!' he said, then laughed. 'I think that must be the end of our game. My Princess, do you need an escort back to your tent?' Tsubasa snorted quietly, muttering something under his breath.

Yukimi rose to her feet, worried now that she might trip in the darkness and in her light intoxication, and so she nodded. 'Thank you, soldier.' She laughed as well. 'Thank you all for the game,' she said warmly to the others.

'Night, my Princess,' Daisuke muttered drunkenly, and the others followed suit. Yukimi and Osamu left the dead fire and began to stumble through the silent camp towards her tent. The guard outside it was sleeping on the ground.

'I'll keep watch,' Osamu volunteered as they looked at the man snoring quietly on the grass.

'Shouldn't we just wake hi-' Osamu bent over and kissed her suddenly. She had never been kissed before, except on the cheek by her mother, and it took a moment for her to realise what it was. _Kiss back!_ she told herself, but another part of her was begging her not to let this happen. The virginity of a Princess was sacred.

She closed her eyes and, as he ran his fingers through her hair of silver silk, she responded to his lips with eager fascination. They stumbled into the tent and, making sure they were silent, climbed quickly but quietly into her hammock. She shivered as his hands ran up her bare thighs, lifting her tunic and pulling it over her head. He was on top of her and though he was gentle in his motions, he guided her hands quickly to his belt, letting her loosen it before pulling his trousers down to his knees.

Without any further hesitation but with infinite care, he slid slowly and tenderly inside her. He paused for a moment and between her small, fast breaths she could feel him pressing against her virginity with a heartbeat of hesitation. Then he pushed through and she almost cried aloud had it not been for the fact that he kissed her deeply, muffling her. _This is good_, she thought despite the pain, _don't stop…don't stop…_Osamu began to move back and forth, and in her quivering excitement Yukimi found herself wrapping her lithe legs around his strong waist, inviting him further in.

Shortly, he spilled his seed inside her, and Yukimi felt for one glorious moment that she would never feel sad again. As they lay together in silence, catching their breath, Osamu kissed her on the forehead as she descended into deep slumber, and he crept out of the tent to stand guard.


	2. Royal Blood Rising

Yukimi's eyes fluttered open. Her muscles were cramped from the cold of the night, so she stretched and listened to the pleasing pop of her joints as they too awoke from slumber. _Why am I so tired?_

Then the memory of last night returned to her. She groaned. It was only vague in detail, and she rubbed her head as the headache from her drunkenness began to nag at her; but she remembered enough. _Oh god_, she thought desperately. _I'm spoiled! Oh god!_ She sat bolt upright in her hammock and instantly regretted it, for she had not inhaled enough breath yet and her head hurt the worse for it. Then another, even worse, thought reached her: _what if he tells?_

Stumbling groggily out of the hammock, she shook her head to release her hair, then staggered over to the tub of water in the corner of the tent, kneeling and sinking her face under the surface. The shock of the cold water awoke her senses at once and soaked her hair, and she groped around her for a comb before carefully easing out the knots in her hair of soft silk under the water. When she was content that it would be clean enough for the march, she drew away from the bucket and ran the comb down from her scalp to the small of her back, letting the water drip away.

_There is peace in grooming_, she thought blankly. _But some dirt you can never wash away…_with idle curiosity, she reached between her legs and gently touched the skin there. Her loins burned from the lovemaking last night. It was a pleasant ache. _What's done is done_, she told herself firmly, looking at the mirror. Her reflection looked no different; though she had a light glow to her pale cheeks, where normally she lacked colour. _The beauty of guilt_. Yukimi snorted bitterly. _Well, I've lived a little now, at least. But what if he tells..?_

Shortly, she was dressed in her armour once again, she had tied her hair in a long ponytail that went down to her buttocks, and she thought that she could at least look people in the eye now. As she walked out of the tent, she spotted Osamu, whose eyes were dreary and his face haggard; yet his posture was still straight. _The poor fool stood guard all night!_ she realised, half horrified by her own guilt at the thought and yet touched by his honour. She nodded awkwardly to him.

'Good morning, my Princess,' he rasped with a little bow. 'No visitors came last night.' She thought he would wink at her, but he looked down at his feet. _Are you ashamed, Osamu?_

'I thank you for…standing guard,' she said stiffly. He nodded.

'Just being a loyal subject, my Princess,' he replied, winking this time. _Where does your heart begin and your ego end?_ she wondered silently, turning away briskly as he chuckled and she felt herself blushing. She went to find Taro.

He was outside his tent, talking with his second-in-command Nobu. He said something and the experienced captain laughed.

'My Princess,' Nobu said, bowing as he noticed Yukimi approaching. Taro looked round and smiled.

'How was your first night away from home?' he asked. _I'd forgotten that we were away from home…I've been distracted._

'The hammock will take some getting used to,' she said lamely. Yukimi was in no mood for idle talk now. Taro laughed politely. 'Taro,' she said firmly; perhaps too firmly, for he looked at her strangely.

'Yes sister?'

'Are we marching soon?'

'Are we marching soon?' Taro asked Nobu, who smiled.

'My Prince, I do not give the orders.' He paused. 'But yes, the camp could be struck at once and we can be on the march again within the hour.' Taro nodded, then looked at Yukimi.

'There's your answer, sister,' he said, looking curiously at her. _Is it that obvious?_ 'You look as if you haven't slept so well,' he said gently.

'I'll be fine,' she replied distantly. 'I'll talk to Isamu and have the Blue Regiment ready.' Taro nodded once more, while Nobu bowed. She turned away again and strode through the camp, thoughts swimming, until she found Isamu once more; he was conversing with Tsubasa and Daisuke, who bowed to him and left before she reached him.

'Are we to strike the camp, my Princess?' he asked tonelessly. She nodded.

'If you would be so kind, Captain.' Yukimi paused awkwardly, feeling as if something was missing. 'Is there anything that I could-'

'No, my Princess,' Isamu interrupted with a broad smile. 'Those hands may wield a sword, but it is only right that they stay soft as silk for when we return to court. You are a noble, not a soldier, my Princess.' _That isn't my fault_, she thought miserably. _Am I good for nothing?_ 'Was there anything else?' he asked, his tone a little gentler as if he could read her thoughts. Yukimi shook her head.

'No, that was all,' she said absently. Less than an hour later, they were marching once more. Yukimi walked alone, left to her own thoughts, and she found herself remembering her meeting with the mysterious girl Sora. _I've heard that name_. _Sora…_She remembered the name, but not the person. _I'll find out when we get home_, Yukimi promised herself.

As dusk approached after hours of marching, they saw in the distance the dark shape of South Fortress. _A proper bed at night?_ Yukimi thought hopefully. _And maybe the chance to…_she looked over her shoulder and saw behind her Osamu marching in the front rank with his brother Tsubasa and others, and instantly snapped her gaze back to the road ahead of her. _No, we'd be caught_. It was a sad thought. Every time she looked at Osamu she felt a warm shiver in her, like the feeling of happiness. And then whenever she looked away again she would be left feeling empty and embarrassed. _I'm not stupid_, she scolded herself. _This is lust. A princess should be above such things._ They were very near to the castle now, and despite the poor light she was able to take in the shape of it quite clearly: it was on a small mountain surrounded by a thin band of fields and then an ocean of trees as far as the eye could see. The castle itself had two concentric rings of stone wall, the outer wall as tall as ten men standing atop one another and the inner wall twice as large, while the keep in the centre, with its seven turrets, was almost a mountain in itself. _This fortress is even bigger than the Imperial Pagoda!_

Taro led his Dragon Guard up the winding path to the gates, and as the Blue Regiment followed them Yukimi left Isamu in charge so that she could be with her elder brother. The mantle of darkness had now descended over the land and there was no light or sound coming from within South Fortress. Taro stood beside Nobu outside the gates, which were slightly ajar, and it seemed they were debating whether or not to enter.

'What has happened here?' Yukimi asked as she arrived beside them, breathless from her brisk walk up the path.

'We don't know,' Taro said quietly. Soldiers behind them were passing around torches to keep away the uncertainty of the night, and Nobu stood silently stroking his beard. 'Nobu says there are no signs of battle here.'

'Desertion, maybe,' the Captain of the Dragon Guard said in a growl. _He growls because he is afraid_, she realised, looking up at the dark stones above her. 'But I can't see desertion happening to Yuudai. Or any other commander I know…' he shook his head, then looked over at Taro. He let the prince think in silence before he took the chance to speak. 'My Prince, we have strength enough to go inside, I think. I strongly suggest you lead the army into the castle; if the gates are open already I doubt we will suffer anything more than a few curses in the dark from the men.' Taro nodded.

'Very well, Captain,' he breathed. 'Order the men to march inside and light the lanterns; the Dragon Guard can investigate the keep, and I want the Blue Regiment to secure the gatehouses and go around the walls to see what they can find.' Nobu nodded in approval and turned swiftly to the men, barking orders at them. Yukimi, meanwhile, bowed to her brother and jogged back down the path to Isamu, passing on the message and ordering them to march through the gates behind the Dragon Guard.

They were soon through the outer gate, and Taro had already led his men through the inner gate without any sign of trouble; except for the chilling desolation of the place. Too curious now to wish any menial task on herself, Yukimi left Isamu to secure the inner wall while she approached the keep. Already torches had been lit by Nobu's men inside and on the seven turrets, so when she walked inside the keep she was expecting a scene of relative normality.

The main hall was completely empty, save for benches at the sides and the small altar at the end of the hall. There, Taro was knelt in a pool of blood, and as Yukimi ran up to him she saw a horribly mutilated body on the altar. She held her hand up to her mouth to stifle her gasp The small bust of Da'Chao had been decapitated, and General Yuudai's crimson tears seeped across the floor, surrounding Taro's knees as he prayed. Nobu arrived behind her, lightly touching her arm. His face had drained pale at the loss of his friend, though he still maintained his soldier's mask.

'You do not need to see this, my Princess,' he whispered. She slapped his hand away, still watching Taro pray. She felt sick. _No army of Wutai would ever dare_, she thought. And the taste of bile in her throat turned instead to a burning anger, something Yukimi rarely felt. Where Nobu looked oddly weak, her blood was hot, strengthened somehow by her fury at this sight. _There is no curse for this_. She remained silent. _No curse, but a promise_.

'This will be avenged,' she hissed quietly, surprised by her own tone. _I sound cruel. Is that the price of leadership?_ Taro rose to his feet slowly. _He is pale, too, like Nobu_, she realised as he turned to face her, his face grim and gaunt where normally there was optimism and cheer.

'Taro…'

'The Blue Regiment will stay here,' Taro said firmly, though he croaked the words for his throat was hoarse. 'Look after South Fortress, sister, and I will hunt these people down. I will find out who did this-'

'Please, stay calm-'

'I will find out who did this!' he shouted at her. 'I will find them, and I will curt them, and I will hurt them, and I will see _justice_!' His voice echoed through the hall. Nobody said a word, nor moved an inch. His eyes softened now, and he stared at his fists, which he unclenched slowly. 'I'm sorry,' he said quietly. 'I'm sorry, Yukimi.' He looked into her eyes and she felt suddenly afraid. 'Look after the castle.' Taro turned towards the door and snapped his fingers, Nobu following him as they made to leave.

'Taro!' Yukimi shouted. They continued walking. 'Taro, come back!' she cried. No reply.

_Taro, I am afraid._


	3. The Princess Guard

_Why was I so angry when I saw Yuudai's body yesterday?_

Yukimi had removed her armour the moment Taro and the Dragon Guard left South Fortress, and though she was not in the least bit tired she retired immediately to bed, leaving Isamu in charge of South Fortress. For much of the next day, she wandered the castle in a tunic rather than wear the chafing armour on her thin shoulders any longer than she had to. Isamu had explained to her much of the castle's mechanics, and how its design meant that it could be defended quite securely with a garrison of just forty men; but again, she had retreated to the humble room she had chosen in the main keep, just two floors above the main hall, one floor above where most of the men slept in their hammocks. Taro's room, when he returned, was at the very top, the master bedroom. But she felt queasy so high up where there was less air and the world felt too big for her. Now she was meditating, once again stressed.

_Does everyone have such a store of sorrow?_ she wondered as she sat cross-legged in silence, her eyes closed. _Strange…that I am fuelled by grief, and yet I fear it greatly_. She opened her eyes. 'This achieves nothing,' she said aloud, standing up in silence. She was in more elegant garb now for she was not on duty; a simple but rich gown of pale blue silk, cool and light and soft on her skin. She found herself again thinking of Sora, who had been wearing a dress of a similar colour when they met at the feet of Da'Chao. _I can't keep her out of my head_, Yukimi realised as she took out her hairpin and ran her fingers through her hair, letting it fall behind her. _What is so special about her?_ She looked around at the bare living quarters she had chosen. _Forget her_, she ordered herself. _She was just some girl_.

Her window was open, she noticed, and though the night was warm she thought that the light of the torches outside would keep her awake, so she strode towards it and reached out for the shutters. A hand grabbed her wrist suddenly, and she gasped in surprise, looking down out of the window.

'Shh!' Osamu hissed, one hand on the window ledge. _He climbed up here to see me! That must be eighty feet of smooth brickwork!_ He let go of her wrist to hold onto the ledge, and she stepped back as she watched him in mild shock. He swung his leg up over the ledge and rolled through the window, landing on his feet and swooping down into a clumsy bow.

'Osamu…'

'Apologies for startling you, my Princess,' he said, still bent low.

'Rise,' she ordered hastily, running her hand through her hair again quickly as he straightened. _Don't blush, don't blush…_already she could feel herself colouring as Osamu offered his disarming smile, apparently waiting for some sort of response from her. When she did not do or say anything, just stared at him, he stepped forwards slowly at first, then, with his brown eyes shining in the candlelight, took her in his arms and kissed her.

_I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be doing this…_

Between kisses, she giggled.

Retreating now to the low bed in the corner of the room, Osamu set her down on the edge of the bed so that she sat facing him as he stood, looking down at her. He knelt, and though the room was dark for the only candle was at the other end of it, she could still see a piercing honesty in his eyes as she stared down at him, feeling her breath quicken. _What am I suppose to do?_ Gingerly, she moved one hand forwards to touch his face, and immediately he took it and pressed his lips against it. She shivered softly at the caress of his warm breath on her cool skin. _I shouldn't be doing this…_

He moved his kisses up her arm and back down, leaving a tingling feeling on Yukimi's tender, cold flesh. She felt light-headed and realised that he had been lifting up her dress so that it was above her knees, and warm strong hands began to move carefully, respectfully, up her thighs. His kiss soon followed, and Yukimi felt compelled to lay back as Osamu's loyal lips found their way between her legs. The pleasure was intense, making her feel hot, and as she ran her fingers through his thick brown hair she bit her lip to stifle her little moans. _I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be doing this…_

It felt like it was over so quickly. She was lying back on the bed panting after he had finished, her eyes closed. Her cold blue dress was still crumpled several inches above her knees, and again she felt that pleasant ache which Osamu had given her last time. She opened her eyes groggily and noticed that the candle was dwindling, nearly dead; she stretched.

'My Princess,' she heard whispered, and instantly sat up. Osamu was still knelt before her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed katana slung over his shoulder. 'You slept, so I guarded you.' _Again! I wonder if this is what real loyalty is_. Yukimi nodded and smiled at him, touching his cheek.

'Thank you,' she said quietly. _Thank you for what? Guarding me, or-_

'My Princess…' he said, with a hint of urgency in his voice. He looked away for a moment, then focused his eyes on hers. 'I will always guard you, my Princess.'

'Call me Yukimi,' she whispered, 'I am no higher than you.' He shook his head.

'I cannot, my Princess,' he said. _So this is not about your ego?_ 'I made a vow.' _Damn your vows!_ she thought angrily, though she said nothing. _Damn your vows, and damn your assumptions! A princess is made from flesh and blood, just like everyone else_. 'And again, my Princess, I vow that I will always guard you.' Yukimi closed her eyes for a moment, nodding.

'Thank you. Osamu. Thank you, Osamu.' They stared at one another for an uncomfortably long time. _Are you in love with me, Osamu?_ She yawned.

'Do you wish for me to…to guard you until morning, my Princess?' he asked shyly. She knew full well that that was out of the question. _You are in love, poor fool_…

'No, Osamu. Go back, before you are caught.' He nodded and stood.

'Was there anything-'

'Go,' she hissed, and instantly regretted it for he looked hurt, like a puppy thrown out into the rain. Stiffly, he bowed and headed for the window, swinging himself over the ledge with all the agility of a ninja of Wutai. She walked over to the window, closing the shutters. _I will not look down_, she told herself firmly as she shut them. _I should not have done that…_

She slept heavily but was woken only a few hours later by a knock at the door. Her head began to throb when she rolled over too quickly. 'Thank you,' she called to the guard outside her room. 'I'm awake.' She groaned and buried her face in her pillow, breathing into it in silence for a few minutes until her cramped joints felt a little warmer from movement, and she climbed out of bed to dress. _I will wear my armour today_.

When she had washed and put her blue breastplate and cloak on over a long tunic, she sought out Isamu. It was about time she started to learn how to lead men. _This is not an exercise any longer_. He was standing on the parapet above the outer gatehouse, conversing lightly with one of the soldiers and laughing at some joke the big captain had told. The soldier retreated with a light bow as he saw her approaching.

'Good morning, my Princess,' Isamu said, smiling pleasantly at her. 'It is good to see you wearing your armour again.' _He respects me more in the uniform_, Yukimi realised. She nodded.

'My shoulders feel stronger today,' she said gently, then paused to look out over the endless forests beyond the walls. 'Where are the Raiders?' she asked. Isamu shrugged.

'In recent months, we believed that they were camped on the very southern tip of the continent, on the peninsula,' he said, gesturing southwards. 'It makes sense; we have no navy, so the only way we could have attacked them was by land, which would almost certainly give them the advantage. The forest cover in these parts has always allowed outlaws and others to hide or ambush. And animals, too, my Princess. Should you wish to hunt, there is a quiet abundance of-'

'I have no desire to hunt, Captain,' she interrupted him, still looking down at the land beneath her. She felt small, even though she was inside such a huge castle. 'I want to know where they are going to come from.' He nodded.

'That's good thinking, my Princess,' he said approvingly. 'A commander's duty in defence is to judge how best to combat the enemy wherever they come from. It is not to guess where the enemy will go, even if intelligence is good. Initially, I would have said that the Raiders would come from the south, since the valley and the forest give them both the access and the protection to arrive here undetected from their camp. However, I'm not convinced that that's the case any longer.'

'Why is that?' _This is fascinating!_

'Yuudai's army has gone somewhere. Three thousand men just disappeared without a trace save for that which Taro and Nobu are following; and we have had no word from them yet. If such a huge contingent of Wutai's army has gone – presumably southwards – then the Raiders have a risk at their hands. Even though Yuudai has been murdered and these men might be deserters, there are undoubtedly a lot of them and none of them have any love the for the Raiders. And they are trained soldiers to boot, not barbaric warriors.'

'So how do we defend the castle should the Raiders come?' she asked, absorbed now in this new kind of education that was a far cry from the pointless etiquette and snobbery of the imperial court.

'There are cliffs surrounding three sides of South Fortress,' he began. 'Even if they had experienced climbers who could reach the top, they would still have to scale the walls; which are built to slope outwards slightly. It is almost impossible for even the best of climbers to scale the walls or the keep of this citadel.' _My Osamu climbed_, she thought with guilty pride, but stayed silent. 'The easiest option, then, seems to be heading up to the main gate, for there is at least a defined path to that point. And the genius of the gate is that it is flanked by two bastions atop vertical rocks. It would be a challenge even to touch the gate, let alone break it open. Look below, my Princess.'

She looked down over the ramparts, and indeed there was only an enclosed space where an attacking army could go. It looked a terrible death trap. She nodded.

'I have another question, Captain.'

'Yes, my Princess?' She turned to face him now.

'What is a leader?'

Isamu smiled. 'Ah.' He paused, nodding in approval at the question. He seemed to think about it for a moment, then swiftly drew his katana and balanced the flat of the blade on his finger. 'A leader is this sword, my Princess,' he said, and she looked at it curiously. 'Observe; the blade core has a far reach. So too must a leader. The katana is a weapon, created and controlled by forces far greater than itself – and a leader must be humble, able to carry out the will of his master. The hilt is firm and, as you can see, balances against the weight of the blade itself. In much the same way, a leader must be balanced, and not put too much stock in a single virtue – like combat. The sword can be used to cut down its master's foes, but it can also be used to defend oneself or one's companion. A leader is not just an attacker and not just a defender. A leader _leads_, and leadership is a habit rather than an act.' He paused, sighing. 'And notice, my Princess, how the katana has been polished and sharpened. For a sword to be sharpened by a whetstone, it must first suffer the blunting of combat. A leader, like a sword, can be respected, feared, even loved, my Princess…but first it must prove its practical worth. I keep my blade sharp because I know that it will save my life when battle comes for me again.'

Silence followed. The clear sunshine was retreating northwards, grey, foreboding clouds floating above the castle, dwarfing it. _I wish I had that wisdom_, Yukimi thought longingly as the wind strengthened and lifted her hair slightly. _It will come with experience…this sword has not yet swung in battle_. _I will be like an avalanche, beautiful and deadly, uncompromising._ She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to shake off the violent thoughts. _This isn't me_.

'My Princess?'

She blinked, then looked over at Isamu. 'Yes, Captain?' _That was rude. I should have broken the silence_.

'Apologies, my Princess, I was concerned only that my counsel was as you had wanted.

'Yes, yes…sorry, Captain, I rather lost myself in thought,' Yukimi said hastily. 'Thank you, I'll remember what you told me.' He bowed as she made to leave, and so turned away from him to walk around the castle, greeting the men of the Blue Regiment as she went.

As the days went by in South Fortress, Yukimi began to learn more and more about the role of the soldier as a protector and peacekeeper rather than simply as a warrior. There was an entirely foreign mentality to war amongst soldiers which she found rather refreshing, and on the third night she gambled with them again. Tsubasa, Osamu's brother, introduced her to a few more of the men, all of whom were respectful but also friendly and accepting. She rolled dice the next night, and the night after that, learning their figures of speech and their sense of humour, and trying to ignore the gaze of Osamu all the while.

It was early in the seventh night when she discovered a new joy for soldiers: duelling. All the royal family were trained from a very young age to wield a katana, and after twelve years of experience Yukimi was no stranger to the sword – though she had never drawn blood. After half a dozen duels took place – and coins exchanged hands in bets – she was laughing and clapping with the rest of them, taking a handful of winnings for her better judgement in the great hall of South Fortress. Daisuke approached her as the last duel finished, bowed, and levelled his katana towards her in the traditional symbol of a challenge. People noticed this and the loud buzz of idle banter in the crowd quickly dimmed to a low mutter. _I am like the rest of them_, she thought. A smile crept across her face. She drew her sword slowly, touching his blade with hers. The crowd murmured in glee, and already she could hear coins being exchanged.

'My Princess, do you know-'

'The rules?' she interrupted him. He scratched the back of his neck.

'Er…no, how to…duel, my Princess…' he shuffled on his feet. _Do you not know what the royal family does every day?_ She tilted her head up to be heard.

'Make us some room!' she shouted, and with a little cheer the small crowd parted to create a circle for the two to fight. 'You were joking, Daisuke?' The man shook his head and grinned.

'Even if I was, my Princess, you accepted the challenge.' A few men laughed at the boldness of that statement.

'We are all the same in here,' she said. 'And yes, I accepted.' Yukimi lowered her blade towards him, facing opposite. _Be theatrical_, she told herself. 'Care to dance with me, Daisuke?' The murmur of excitement rose from the men. _Poor, deluded people_, she thought as she cut two arcs in the air with her weapon. _Royalty means nothing_. But a fight meant something to them, and so she and Daisuke bowed opposite one another.

They began to circle each other warily. Yukimi could see in his eyes that he was surprised she could be so tactical. _I will defend first_, she decided. She feinted a lunge even though she was too far away, just to test his and the crowd's reaction. They muttered at the sudden movement, and Daisuke smiled, taking it as weakness. _Foolish indeed_, she thought gleefully, and as he stepped towards her she went down on one knee, swishing her katana above her head and letting it knock his attack aside. He stumbled; Yukimi leapt to her feet and lunged. He parried. She lunged again, and again, and again, and made to do so once more but instead she spun away, making his sword arm twitch as he predicted a defence. The soldiers around her chuckled. She was beginning to enjoy herself.

Daisuke swept in for a second attack, and his eyes seemed steelier. He swung his sword up and she jumped back, allowing herself to sway backwards before bounding forth and slashing at him quickly. He blocked the blow deftly, and they returned to circling one another. _Now he knows I am no child_. She licked her lips. _But does he know I am an acrobat?_

Yukimi moved towards him on light feet and dropped to the floor, surprising him, before dancing behind and around him like a deadly fast viper coiling around its victim. She tapped him on the back of the head with the flat of her blade, and by the time he had turned around to face her again she had retreated once more to the edge of the circle. Men were laughing now, and Daisuke reddened. Yukimi had far more control than her opponent, for she had been instructed on the art of balance by the martial masters of the imperial court. _By no means perfect_, she reflected, _but this man is a warrior, not an artist_.

He attacked. He raised his katana and threatened to slice down from above, but feinted suddenly and brought his attack up from below. Yukimi swung away just in time, but the tip of his sword cut her tunic at the stomach. It did not reach her skin, but the cloth was torn and she found herself beginning to blush. _The whole fight up to this point was a feint_, she realised as she recovered from the shock, mastering her calmness. _Very well_.

Now it was her turn to unleash a surprise, and she ran straight at him before launching herself from her tiptoes, touching his shoulder to keep herself in the air, and landed lightly behind him. She had found her way past his defence and instantly attacked, cutting at once from the left and then the right, and then slicing down and parrying a blow and continuing like that for longer, the speed of her assault as vicious as it was surprising. Her footwork allowed her to remain on the advance, and though she was in hot pursuit her self-control was as cold as a snow-covered glacier. She had nearly forced him to the edge of the circle, but with a hasty parry of one of her attacks he was able to escape from the onslaught and skipped to the right. The crowd applauded as Daisuke and Yukimi once again settled into circling the outside of the fighting ring.

_Come on, I'll draw blood for the first time_, she thought savagely. Her blood was rising now, and she felt hot. _Don't lose control…_

Daisuke launched himself at her. He sent his blade aside in an attempt to cut her waist and finish the duel, but she blocked him, and then they began to exchange cuts and blows and blocks and thrusts at an unprecedented pace. Her will was bent entirely now on defence, for Daisuke's attacks were too fast for her to keep up with. His experience gave him a gut instinct for combat and now she was on the retreat, her blocks and parries becoming desperate. He was just wearing her down now and he knew it, and she saw only one window of opportunity in the blink of an eye. Stepping closer suddenly, Yukimi's sword swept back and with a shout of vicious joy she prepared to swing it at him and draw first blood.

He sidestepped. It was not theatrical, it was not deft, but it was functional and her attack swung uselessly past his left shoulder. His sword cut upwards subtly and sliced from her thigh up to her navel, splitting her tunic and her skin in one swift motion. She staggered back and dropped her katana at the sharp pain going up her body; more from the shock of her sudden defeat than the actual feeling of her unblemished skin suffering such a long cut. Strong arms caught her from behind and as soon as the clinking of the winnings ended men were crowding around her as the man supporting her knelt so that she could lean against him on the ground, lying back with her wound exposed to all.

_I lost_, she thought dumbly. Another thought struck her.

_I know these hands_.

She tried to struggle away from Osamu's grip, but he held her down with gentle firmness as Tsubasa knelt beside her to carefully pull aside the split sides of her tunic to reveal the wound.

'Silence!' he bellowed, and the nervous excitement of the crowd lowered to a quiet mutter. She tried to move away again, but Osamu's hands were on her shoulders keeping her in place. _Forget it, let them see the royal blood bleed_, she thought angrily, letting her head fall back into Osamu's lap. He was looking down at her with what looked like grave concern. Tsubasa unclasped his cloak and pressed it against the bare wound.

'It's a long cut, my Princess,' he said softly, 'but shallow. It will scab tonight if we dress the wound for one night, and might have healed up completely within a week if you allow the open air to heal it.' She closed her eyes. _Go away_. 'My Princess?'

'My Princess?' Osamu ventured. That made her open her eyes again. She shook her head from side to side to clear the heavy, heady feeling that she had, and then nodded.

'Where is Daisuke?' she asked. Nobody said a word. Daisuke shuffled forwards, and she noticed shrewdly that he was wiping her blood off his sword with his cloak. He bowed nervously.

'My Princess,' he said stiffly. She drew out the silence for a moment. _Let him suffer a little_, she thought dimly. She breathed in to speak at last.

'Give me your sword, Daisuke,' she said. Her voice sounded weak, so she sat up, pushing away Osamu's protective hands. He offered her his katana, hilt first, and she took it, examining her blood smeared on the steel. Tsubasa kept his cloak pressed against her wound to soak up the blood. 'In the stories of old,' she said in a stronger voice, 'great warriors always had names for their swords. Have you named this one yet, Daisuke?'

He shook his head. 'No, my Princess…I would only name it if it achieved something spectacular,' he said nervously. She nodded, and managed a smile.

'I have a name for it,' she said slowly. 'I would be _honoured_ if you accepted it.' _This is interesting_, she thought. _I am thinking on the spot_. _Am I a leader?_

'My Princess, to be honoured by you would be…' he paused, swallowing. 'I accept, my Princess.'

'It has felt the blood of a princess,' she said, 'so it must know it well. It must _guard_ this princess blood as well, Daisuke.

'Call your sword the Princess Guard.'


End file.
